


Slow Dancin' In A Burning Room

by wreckofherheart



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckofherheart/pseuds/wreckofherheart
Summary: ‘You know the right things to say, don’t you?’ Katara reaches over, a hesitant hand at Toph’s cheek, before she drops it. Instead, Katara shufflers closer, and rests her head on Toph’s shoulder, holding on as tight as she can. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she whispers. Toph’s heartbeat resonates in her ear, and Toph inhales sharply.
  Two years is a long time.  ‘It’s nice to be back.’[Toph/Katara]





	1. i

 

– _if i could begin to be_  
_half of what you think of me_  
_i could do about anything_  
_i could even learn how to love_ –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     When she’s little, she notes how the trees talk. 

Usually they give off warnings, their roots shuddering beneath the soil. Sometimes the trees chat about who’s approaching, the rhythm of their footsteps, the heat in their palms. _Firebenders_. She’s not keen on those, and neither are the trees; she can sense their fear as if they were truly screaming out for help.

Three years old, the little girl doesn’t know much, but she’s _certain_ the trees are trying to tell her something. 

Father mocks her: ‘Toph, you are a confused thing. Trees don’t _talk_ ; they don’t have a voice.’

Oh. Right.

Except that they do, and eventually the ground starts talking too, and the flowers, even the sky. Until the world is loud with noise, and she can’t quite pinpoint which sound to focus on. She informs Mother about this predicament, expecting at least a _little_ understanding, but Mother sighs sadly as if it is all her fault.

‘You’re not making any sense, darling. Perhaps you have a fever coming on?’ She touches the child’s forehead, only to find she’s of normal temperature. ‘I must make sure the nanny doesn’t let you out of the house too often. It makes you delusional.’ Mother goes on as if her child isn’t actually there, and she may as well not be.

After all, she’s blind, and what can a blind person know?

 

 

 

 

     ‘I have decided to move out. Tomorrow. Don’t worry: I have what I want packed.’

Father nearly chokes on his meal. ‘Can’t we, at least, _talk_ about this?’

‘Nope! It’s done.’

As are most earthbenders, Toph is irritatingly stubborn, to the point of fault. 

‘You’re only _fourteen_. How about you think this through properly? You’re still only a little girl, and I would never forgive myself if you got hurt.’

‘I am _fine_ on my own. Don’t tell Mother until I’m gone: I don’t want to try and convince _her_ too.’

‘You’re a _child_. And you’re _blind_! How are you going to manage?’

Toph loses her appetite, and abandons her place at the table. _I don’t know. I don’t care. But I always_ ** _do_** _manage._ She ignores Father’s protests, ignores the threat that he’ll bolt the doors tonight, and _ensure_ none of the guards allow her to leave.

It doesn't really bother her, because she can tell he’s lying.

 

 

 

 

     Two years go by, and although the Gaang scattered themselves after the war, they have always tried to maintain communication. 

Sokka is frequently absent at sea, but he enjoys writing letters, and Katara always receive them warmly. The Avatar, himself, enjoys to teach as well as keep a watchful eye on the world. So far, all seems well. 

Over time, the school Katara and Aang built––tutoring young waterbenders and any other bender which takes an interest––has doubled in size. 

At first, there was strong appeal to the idea of being taught by Aang, but Katara’s enthusiasm sent in a wave of pupils, of all kind of nationalities. 

Not to mention her teaching skills are much more credible than Aang’s. For one, the Avatar doesn’t know much on disciplining young children.

The school they build together is situated in the Earth Kingdom, a small island further North where the snow falls during Winter, coating the ground in white. It reminds Katara of home, and has allowed her to adapt easier to the rapid change in climate throughout the seasons.

Katara treasures all the letters she’s given, and it’s clear to her a certain friend hasn’t responded to her messages in a while. Aang is either more patient, or just less concerned, because he shrugs off Toph’s silence as typical behaviour. Katara thinks that fair, but she’s not entirely keen on the fact she’s being _ignored_.

‘Can’t she, at least, _acknowledge_ our letters?’

‘I wouldn’t push it,’ Aang scratches the back of his head, ‘You know how she gets.’

‘Right.’ Katara couldn’t be any less concerned about Toph’s temper. She’s endured it on plenty of occasions. 

It _has_ been two years though. Even for Toph, that’s far too long.

So Katara tries again, scribbling a quick message, before starting her first class for today.

 

 

 

 

     More month pass and, eventually, there’s a knock at the door. It’s too rude and insistent to be anybody else.

‘Do you know how _fucking_ freezing it is here? I can’t feel my _feet_.’

‘You’re alive!’

‘What?’ Toph is slightly taken aback by the relief in Katara’s tone, but quickly recovers: ‘You gonna let me in?!’

‘Oh. _Yes_. Sorry.’

Toph doesn’t even wait for Katara to move aside. She barges past her, teeth chattering, fingers blue from the cold, and looking furious. Katara closes the door, and offers to take Toph’s coat, but Toph has already thrown it aside carelessly. ‘You’d think the locals would be able to figure out which way to go.’

Picking up Toph’s coat, Katara blinks at her in puzzlement. ‘Wait, you didn’t come here _alone_ , did you?’

‘Yeah. How else was I supposed to travel? And what’s that supposed to mean? No better way to travel than solo.’

Katara pulls a face. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you.’

The south pole is ridiculously cold this time of year, but as an inhabitant of the Earth Kingdom, Toph’s tolerance of the chill is minimal. Katara is impressed she managed to find her hut. The snow must be difficult to cooperate with, not to mention the ground at her feet isn’t _steady_. Toph would have been at a serious disadvantage. 

Katara folds Toph’s coat neatly onto the chair, and informs she’s going to prepare some tea.

‘ _Hot_ , please.’

‘I know how you like it.’

Toph hears Katara walk by her, footsteps delicate on the wooden floorboard. Fortunately, Katara’s home is easy to get around, and she follows her into the next room. A window is open somewhere and it’s bringing in an unpleasant amount of cold air. 

A soft material brushes past her hand. Somebody has left their jacket behind, now strewn across the table. Toph recognises the scent immediately; the texture of the clothing. ‘When did Twinkle Toes visit you last?’

‘He was just here actually! In fact, he was asking about––’

Toph loses interest. ‘I’m staying here for a month or so. I don’t mind taking the floor.’

‘Y––Uh, oh. Okay. Why are you––?’

‘Few things I need to work on, and this is the only place I won’t be disturbed.’

Katara places the mug of tea down. Toph can smell the aroma from here, and she turns her head slightly at Katara’s approach. She hears a sigh, and can’t help but be reminded of Mother. Either Katara is tired, or Toph has said something out of order. 

Probably both.

‘What now?’ Toph asks.

‘Two years.’

‘What about it?’

‘ _Two years_ , Toph. Is it truly that hard to send me a letter? Tell me you’re _alive_ , at least?’

‘Hard to write a letter when you can’t see what you’re actually _writing––_ ’

‘You could ask somebody to write for you. You’ve done it before.’

Katara has her there. Toph refuses to apologise, though. What can she say? She’s been busy, and why does everybody expect her to be in constant communication with them? Sometimes Katara is more overbearing than her own parents. 

There’s a short pause. 

‘Is the tea done yet?’

Katara lets out another sigh, but this time it’s irritated. It’s just _done_ with Toph’s cavalier nonsense. 

What Toph expects is a rant, a lecture on not caring for her friends, or not realising how important she is to the group, but to her surprise, Katara doesn’t even try. And as relieving as she thought it might be, Toph can’t help feel guilty at how she’s made Katara feel. Whenever Katara is unhappy––as rare as it is––her mood just _dominates_ the room.

The mug of tea is scalding to touch, just as Toph likes it. After passing the drink, Katara moves away, and her scent is sweet. Soothing.

It is the kind of sensation which sends Toph into a daze.

She listens out for Katara’s fading footsteps, the sound of things being pushed around, before she returns. ‘I can’t let you sleep on the floor, Toph. Have my bed. I’ll be out here, instead. You’ve been here a couple of times. Do you remember where everything is?’

‘Yep. Thanks.’ Toph kicks off her shoes. ‘I’m pretty tired, so I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Oh! Here’s a blanket. In case you get cold.’

Toph accepts silently. These past two years have exhausted her, but she’s not willing to express that to anybody, not even Katara. As soon as she shuts the bedroom door, Toph collapses onto the bed, the sheets filled with Katara’s scent. She grabs a fistful, and presses it close to her face, before falling asleep. 

 

 

 

 

     People are yelling outside. People are _bending water_ outside, and they don’t sound as if they’re doing it correctly. Toph raises her head, hair in disarray, and finally hears Katara’s voice, louder and more authoritative than the others. She manages to silence the group, and proceeds to teach and remark on what was done right and what was done wrong.

Toph slips off the bed, and proceeds for the window. She feels the glass beneath her fingertips, and opens it wide. She can hear the commotion much clearer now, and it occurs to her that Katara has a class of eager students.

They’re absolutely quiet while Katara shows them the appropriate stance, and how they’re too tense. That the water must be an extension of themselves, loose and free. She hears the rush of water, dancing around Katara, before a _splash_ as she shoots it towards an invisible target. After that, she tells her students to attempt the very same.

One student in particular is misbehaving, refusing to obey his teacher’s advice. In his silly attempts to make his friends laugh, he’s actually causing slight chaos. Katara gives him one last chance, and warns if he tries to do anything stupid again, she’ll have to exclude him from this session. The boy stops his comedic performance, but Toph hears him mock her.

Closing the window, Toph rounds the corner of the bed, and leaves the room.

 

 

 

 

     It doesn’t take a lot for her last favourite student to act up. And whenever he does, the other students fall into his stupidity too. They lose interest in their waterbending, and focus on him instead. The dumb tricks he can manipulate with the water, how he _accidentally_ splashes water in a student’s face.

And it’s _oh so funny_.

Kids. While Katara has a soft spot for them, some children can be _unbearable_. 

‘Again? Really?’ She asks when he waves his right hand a certain motion, allowing the water to trip over one of the students. A few children cackle at the result. ‘I gave you a final warning. You can sit out from here on.’

‘Make me!’ He grins. ‘You can’t force me to do anything.’

_You want to bet on that?_ Katara maintains her composure. ‘True. I can’t. That doesn’t mean I can’t have a word with your _mother_ , though.’ This seems to do the trick. The child stutters on his words, and goes quiet. Katara is relieved, and proceeds with the lesson. She asks the students to perform the same motion as before.

Suddenly a burst of water is sprayed in her face.

The majority of students laugh, and it’s more than obvious who caused this offence. Katara jars her teeth in anger. _That’s it!_

Just as she’s about to discipline the class, the ground splits beneath her, and, to her horror, the misbehaving boy is thrown off his feet. Snow and dirt lift him from the ground, and he’s roughly chucked aside. The boy lands heavily on his back, and a couple of students run over to see if he’s all right. But the snow is shot in their direction, ceasing them from checking on him.

Fortunately the boy is fine. 

Toph wouldn’t _dream_ of harming a child, but she certainly wouldn’t mind _scaring_ one.

‘Guessing you’re the class clown, eh?’

The boy scrambles to his feet, frowning at her. Katara forgets about the lesson, and hurries over, placing one hand on Toph’s shoulder. Before she can let a word in, the boy starts yelling: ‘Look at her! She’s _blind_.’ Toph can _hear_ his arm raise, the finger _pointed_ at her face. ‘Haha, what kinda bender are you? You can’t see anything.’

Katara gapes at him. 

‘True that,’ Toph says. ‘But I’m the best bender you’ll ever find.’

‘Pst, yeah right!’

‘Yeah. _Right_.’ Toph slams her foot down, and the boy is shot off into the far distance. Katara’s hand slips from Toph’s shoulder.

‘Please tell me you have someway to fetch him back?’

Toph folds her arms, ‘Why do that?’

‘ _Toph_!’

‘Fine, whatever.’ She pushes her palms upwards, and the ground raises. That’s when Katara can see a small figure being dragged closer towards them. The earth has a hold on him, dragging him back to where Katara and Toph stand. To Katara’s amazement, the boy isn’t harmed, although there are distinct tears in his eyes.

At Toph’s motion, the earth crumbles away, and he’s released.

Before he can say anything, however, Toph steps forward. And her voice isn’t kind. 

‘You wanna know the truth? I’d’ve killed to have had a teacher like Katara. You’d better watch your mouth, kid. I’m _watching_ you.’

Katara has to restrain herself from pulling a face at that ironic warning. Or even _smiling_ at Toph’s praise for her.

‘I will! I’m sorry. I won’t––I won’t do anything like that again!’

Toph cringes at his wails. ‘There’s no need to get in a _state_ , kid.’

‘Um, thank you, Toph.’ Katara gently holds the boy’s hand. ‘I can take it from here. You can go now.’

If Toph could see Katara’s face, the smile on her lips, how her tone just doesn’t reflect how she truly feels, then maybe Toph might have responded in kind.

Regardless, the young earthbender just shrugs, and for the first time in her life, does as she’s told.

 

 

 

 

 

The snow begins to talk as well. About the wind, the fact heavy snowfall is due. About the lives who have trodden the same path. The colours reflected in the night sky, and the things people believe she can’t possibly comprehend. This evening is a little warmer, but even the thick coat Katara lent her doesn’t keep much heat in.

Still, it beats the Earth Kingdom. Toph isn’t quite ready to return yet.

Toph hasn't strayed far from Katara’s home, which is wise. The snow doesn’t make it easy to retrace her steps. Which is why Katara discovers her not far off. She doesn’t say anything when she approaches, sitting down beside her friend, and enjoying the view. Toph hears her exhale in some kind of contentment, and imagines her face displaying such a feeling.

It suddenly occurs to her why Katara is expressing this sort of aura. 

‘Did Aang visit?’

‘Yes. He’s going away for a while, so came to collect what he left behind.’

Toph doesn’t care if Aang has stayed with Katara or not.

Even if the idea _annoys_ her a bit.

‘Is Twinkle Toes still depending on you to look after him?’ Toph laughs. ‘He needs to start growing up.’

‘He has, Toph. We’re friends and we’re close. We depend on each other.’

‘ _Close_? Ah. Okay. Is _that_ what you’re calling it?’

Katara narrows her brows. She had come out here to have a relaxing time, but maybe she shouldn’t have hoped so much. This _is_ Toph, and sometimes she can suggest the most outrageous things. In the _rudest_ way.

‘What do you mean?’

Toph shrugs. ‘You like Aang! That’s not exactly news to me.’

For a long while, they’re quiet, and Toph realises she’s made a mistake. Katara’s energy darkens, and she lowers her voice to a whisper. ‘We’re not together anymore.’ 

This catches Toph off guard. ‘Why?’

‘Oh, stop pretending you care!’ Toph hears Katara stand to her feet. ‘You chose not to have anything to do with us for the past two years. What do you expect to happen? Things have _changed_ over the years, Toph. And then you think it’s all well and good to just waltz into our lives again, and think things will be exactly as you left them!’

‘Is that why you’re mad at me? ‘Cos I don’t wanna keep up with your _boring_ love life?’

‘No! Because––’ Katara cuts herself off. She looks down at Toph who remains seated, her head at a slight angle towards her. There’s an emotion in her eyes which Katara can’t pinpoint, but it doesn’t matter. As far as she’s concerned, Toph is being completely unfair. ‘Because I thought we were friends. I don’t know. Forget it.’

Toph scoffs quietly, and can’t ignore the rage building in her stomach. How much she hates it when she’s criticised. Let alone by somebody she genuinely cares for!

‘I felt close to you. Really close. I thought you felt the same, but I suppose I was wrong.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Toph snaps, and instantly regrets her tone.

‘You know, I have no idea why I missed you! Clearly I forgot how _impossible_ you are to be with.’ Katara sharply turns on her heel to leave, but stops, and looks back. ‘By the way, what you did to that student today was completely out of order!’

‘Whatever. I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.’

‘It’s not nice to treat people that way––’

‘Do you wanna back _off_?’ Toph has stood to her feet now, and although her line of gaze isn’t on Katara, she faces her with an irritated expression. ‘I only did that because he deserved it. I just don’t have time for disrespectful students. They think everything can be handed to them on a plate, and it all to be easy. If you don’t discipline ‘em, they won’t know any better.’

‘Thank you, but I don’t need your advice on _teaching_.’

Katara rarely witnesses Toph take an insult. Sometimes, Toph can be a little _too_ expressive, and Katara’s words _sting_. ‘I don’t care anymore. I’m going to bed.’

‘Do you need me to help you find your way?’

That wasn’t meant as mockery, but in her anger, Toph interprets it as such. As she takes a step forward, a spray of snow lands in Katara’s direction. The waterbender doesn’t attempt to call for her friend, aware of the damage she’s caused.

When it comes to discussing emotions, it always has to be complicated with Toph.

Deciding to give them both some time to simmer down, Katara returns to where she was seated before. Her eyes sting, and her heart hurts, but she won’t allow herself to cry. Not for Toph. They have argued like this before, but this time around, the tone and manner of Toph’s behaviour was more personal than usual.

Katara has upset her one way or another, and the waterbender fears it might be to do with Aang’s visits. 

 

 

 

 

 

     The hut is warm. She can smell smoke, a little of ash. 

Closing the door, Katara lowers her hood, and turns in the direction of the fireplace. A smile reaches her lips and she comes forward. Toph has been kneeling before the fireplace for God knows how long, trying to start a few flames with the match. Yet, each time the fire catches the wood, it disappears from the cold and draft.

Katara kneels down with her, and reaches for the match sticks.

‘It won’t work! I’ve done _everything_.’

‘You’re doing it _perfectly_ ,’ Katara says. She swipes the match stick, and feeds the flame to several areas across the wood. She waves her hand over the flames, moves the wood slightly, and then, the fire bursts to life. ‘You just need to encourage it, that’s all.’

‘I was hoping it would be done before you got back.’

‘No, I appreciate it, Toph.’

They enjoy the warmth for a moment. Finally the cold is bearable, and Toph’s fingertips don’t feel as if they’re going to fall off anymore. ‘So, about before…’

‘It’s all right. I’m sorry too.’

‘Uh, thanks. I guess. I mean, what I wanted to say was, well––you really did miss me?’

Katara blinks, perplexed. ‘Of _course_. You’re one of my best friends. How could I _not_ miss you?’ She chuckles. ‘I don’t expect you to have missed me as well, but, yeah, your absence was noticeable. I kinda like having a girl around.’

‘Some girl,’ Toph scoffs. Katara smiles. ‘I missed you too. It got boring without having somebody to argue with.’

‘You know the right things to say, don’t you?’ Katara reaches over, a hesitant hand at Toph’s cheek, before she drops it. Instead, Katara shufflers closer, and rests her head on Toph’s shoulder, holding on as tight as she can. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she whispers. Toph’s heartbeat resonates in her ear, and Toph inhales sharply.

Two years is a long time.

‘It’s nice to be back.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give in! I had to write a full-length story about these two. This story is set two/three years after the show. That makes Toph sixteen, and Katara eighteen. I plan to update as frequently as I can, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> The song I'm quoting at the beginning of the chapter is Love Like You, from the Steven Universe show. The title is from John Mayer. And the lyrics just _scream_ Katoph.


	2. ii

     The snow is heavy the following morning, which is perfect for Katara. Excited to begin her waterbending session, she roughly plans out her lesson in her head while shoving on her jacket. 

Perhaps some self defence techniques are in store today, and work on stances is absolutely necessary. Most of her students will find themselves flat on their arse if they maintain their awful postures.

Accustomed to the chill, Katara doesn’t feel it, but her students are shivering. In order to help raise their temperature, she immediately sets them to work. Concentration and movement are enough to boost the warmth in their body, and, in only a few minutes, her classroom no longer feel the cold.

‘Need a hand?’

Katara turns in surprise, and beams in delight. ‘I thought you’d never ask!’

Toph shrugs as if it’s no big deal. She can hear the students performing, the splash of water, their feet slipping in the snow. However, her earthbending is minimal in these conditions. Seeing through the earth is one of her greatest talents, but it is put to waste when snow is in the way.

Still, the soil beneath the snow hasn’t disappeared completely. There are light vibrations beneath her shoes, and it’s not entirely impossible to decipher where Katara stands. Katara steps over, and pulls Toph forward, grinning ear-to-ear. ‘You can help with the self defence. They need to see more than _just_ waterbending.’ 

If it means a brawl, then Toph is all for it. She’s not sure if she likes her lack of perception, though. She can _hear_ the students, but can’t exactly pinpoint exactly where they are. 

‘How about it? I’m on the defence, and you attack me.’

Toph smiles crookedly. ‘A pleasure.’

Happy with their decision, Katara demands the attention of the class, and announces she shall show how defensive water can be. For example, its strength against earth. The students sit down, ready to witness the pretend battle before them. 

For the sake of being able to teach, and so the students can follow, Toph decides not to be so harsh and confrontational. As she’s about to get into the correct stance, she hears Katara bend water from one hand to the other, and then suddenly, the snow is swept away beneath their feet.

Katara deliberately took away the snow, just so Toph could see better.

It shouldn’t touch her this much. It shouldn’t be this important.

But it is, and Toph is stunned by her generosity. 

_The fact Katara even thought it_.

The damp earth feels good, and immediately Toph is much more at ease. She can tell where Katara stands, the way she holds herself; the fact there are approximately ten to fifteen children watching them to the right. Toph notes not to accidentally scatter any earth in their direction.

Katara confirms she’s good to go. Toph raises her palms upwards, and the earth is grasped, rocks shooting towards her partner. Katara defends herself with ease, and informs the students what she is doing. It’s all basic instruction, and while Toph would be bored out of her mind to be sitting this class, she is interested in Katara’s voice. She speaks about bending so passionately, regardless of the element.

For about ten minutes, Katara maintains the session at a slow pace, before finally giving Toph permission to fight properly. The students obediently take a few steps back, and watch with wide eyes. 

Eager to get started, Toph doesn’t go easy on Katara, and a mix of gravel and snow is darted over. Katara creates a barrier of water, some of the debris bouncing back. Before Toph is hit, she manages to create a huge boulder from the earth––earning a gasp from their audience––and slams her heel down. The boulder is a mountain of weight, but with a great deal of strain, Katara manages to stop it from crushing her whole.

She breaks it apart with water, before slicing icicles at Toph. Toph dodges the attack, and instantly responds, forcing the earth to rise. Katara loses balance slightly, which Toph takes to her advantage. The ground beneath her cracks apart, and hot earth is shot forward. Katara is prepared, though, and shatters it all apart with a huge slash of ice.

They could both continue for hours on end, however Toph senses Katara raise her hand as a signal to stop. Reluctantly, Toph lowers her arms. Some of the students let out exclaims of awe, and she has to admit, she quite likes it. She enjoys the fact they are paying attention, that they’re taking this seriously, and it makes sense why Katara goes above and beyond for these young ones.

Passing on knowledge is a satisfying feeling. 

‘If you’re impressed by _that_ , you should know that your bending is not limited to your birth element. Toph was able to manipulate metal all on her own, without any form of guidance. Anybody here is capable of doing the very same, as long as they put their mind to it.’

Toph twitches a smile, but says nothing. She hears a student raise his hand, and ask a question.

‘My brother is an earthbender. Can he have lessons too?’

‘Well, that’s not up to me to decide,’ Katara admits. Toph senses her eyes on her. ‘I know what you mean, though. I’d love to be taught by Toph as well.’

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with the amount of praise, Toph bows her head respectfully. Takes a step back in order to depart. ‘I have to go now.’ Katara informs the class to practice their self defence, and, while they’re distracted, she takes Toph by the wrist.

‘You’re going? Why?’

‘I have things to do.’

‘Didn’t you enjoy this?’

Toph starts to get annoyed, and struggles to lower her voice. ‘Yeah, I did, but I got other priorities. What do you want?’

‘Um, nothing, I guess. I just thought––’ She stops, tries again. ‘Okay. I’ll see you back home?’

It’s weird, the way she says it. As if _home_ is a place they’ve shared together for years. Toph ignores the fluttering sensation it gives her, and turns away. She yanks her hand out of Katara’s grip. 

‘Sure. See you.’

Anyway, it’s starting to snow, and Toph hates the snow.

 

 

 

 

 

     Eventually Father discovers where she went––the place she always travels to in the end––and writes. Of course he expects a friend like Katara to read out the letter, but Toph hides it away before it’s seen. 

She scrapes her fingertips across the handwriting, feeling the ink; she recognises the writing style, and rips the letter apart.

There are voices downstairs. 

Two of them she doesn’t recognise, but the other is Katara, and she sounds stressed. She sounds as if these two strangers have trapped her in a corner. More curious than anything, Toph proceeds into the room without knocking. Her blatant rudeness catches everybody’s attention.

‘You’re all being very loud,’ she unnecessarily comments.

Katara frowns, but the two strangers have the audacity to speak instead. A man and woman. Parents. Toph thinks back to the boy she punished yesterday, and can’t help but smirk. She knows why the couple are here.

‘You’re the blind one?’

‘She has a name, and her name is Toph,’ Katara growls.

‘It’s okay, Katara,’ Toph says, more calm than she should be. ‘I imagine you’re here because of your son?’ She passes the two, and joins Katara. ‘I’m sure you agree that he got what was coming to him.’

‘Earthbending? On a _child_? What’s the matter with you?’

Katara opens her mouth to snap back, but Toph places a hand on her arm. ‘Well, clearly vocal punishment wasn’t working, so I had to try another alternative.’

‘What?’ The father scoffs. ‘Are you _insane_?’

‘Mm, probably,’ Toph shrugs. Katara nearly slaps her forehead. ‘I don’t see how that relates to your son’s misbehaviour, though. For the record, I didn’t _harm_ him. If he tells you I hurt him, then your son is a liar, as well as a brat.’

‘How can _you_ tell if you hurt him or not? You can’t _see_.’

Toph is growing tired of the same insult. ‘I’m blind, but I’m not _stupid_.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ 

Toph glowers. It’s one thing to point out her blindness, but to mock her intelligence? That’s another thing altogether. 

The man’s voice is now directed at Katara. ‘You’re one lousy teacher for allowing this to happen, and undoubtedly the _worst_ waterbender around. You should check your temper too, otherwise you might find yourself out of a job.’

Katara takes this personally, but covers her emotions well. ‘I appreciate you must be upset, but I can confirm that your child wasn’t harmed. I wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen to him.’

‘I’ve got a better idea,’ Toph announces, voice sharp. ‘You find another teacher, one good as Katara, and good luck with that, by the way. Honestly: take your damned kid out of her class, it’ll do everybody else a favour. And Katara hasn’t laid a finger on any of her pupils. She’s a decent teacher, and I’d have done anything to have had a teacher like that when I was younger.’

He steps forward, ‘You––’

‘Now get out. Or I’ll _throw_ you _both_ out, and I’ll _ensure_ this will hurt.’

Silence. The four of them don’t say a word. Toph is prepared. If they _dare_ push her, she will go all the way. Nobody gets away with insulting Katara like that. There’s hesitation, until, finally, the parents decide to drop the subject and leave. They mumble complaints as they turn away.

Katara follows them to the door, apologises for what happened to their son, before bolting the door shut.

She pauses, sighs, and looks at Toph. ‘Thanks. I really needed you back there.’

‘Eh.’ Toph waves her hand carelessly. ‘It’s nothing.’

It’s _everything_.

Katara smiles warmly, and wishes Toph knew.

 

 

 

 

 

     A fire has been made. Although its creator has left the house. Toph can feel its heat from the next room, and walks over to sit beside it. A part her wonders where Katara has gone, how long she will be; she shouldn’t, but she admittedly feels a little uneasy whenever Katara is gone.

She feels the carpet. The softness of its texture. Clean, and maintained. Like the rest of her home. Toph faces the fire, and closes her eyes; the heat is beginning to make them sting. She waits for a while, listening out eagerly, but the snow outside blocks most sensations, so she doesn’t hear or feel Katara arriving until she opens the door. Wet snow falls to the floor, and she lets out an exhausted breath.

Toph turns her head slightly, acknowledging her arrival. Katara strips off her jacket, and runs her hands through her damp hair. ‘It’s a storm outside,’ she says. ‘Wise that you didn’t come with me.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘Oh. Just for some fresh air.’

Toph frowns, unconvinced. ‘You were gone a while.’

‘Was I? Sorry. I didn’t mean––’

‘I don’t care,’ Toph admits. ‘I just didn’t know where you were.’

Katara stops. Looks at her, but Toph is facing the fire again. Sometimes Katara forgets how Toph grew up. Usually alone, with badgermoles to keep her company. Parents that saw nothing but her blindness, who barely gave her a chance. Just saw her as something fragile and helpless.

Naturally, Toph has to prove herself. Every day. So, the very thought of showing any kind of dependence makes Toph uncomfortable. She will never admit to Katara why she came here. That she genuinely missed her best friend, and wanted to be close. That even if she is fiercely independent, she still _needs_.

Katara sits down, accidentally bumping her knee against Toph’s. She admires her face for a moment. Toph has matured so much over the past three years. Her face is more angular, her hair is longer, not to mention she’s taller. Katara smiles absently. In all honesty, Toph has grown into a pretty young woman.

She wonders if anybody has told her that recently. If Toph, herself, has any idea.

Mind, Katara has always thought Toph pretty. Right from the start. 

Even if she did have her unpleasant habits, which she has fortunately grown out of.

‘Why’re you staring at me?’

‘Wha––? I’m not!’ Katara snaps her head back, and stares straight at the fire. 

Toph drops the topic. Which Katara is thankful for. ‘By the way, you know that kid who asked if I’d hold a class?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ll do it,’ Toph shrugs. ‘But I wanna do this with you. It was your idea anyway.’

Katara chuckles, flattered by the invitation. ‘Okay. I like that.’ She straightens, and leans closer to Toph. ‘Thanks for having my back earlier.’

‘He was annoying me, and I don’t like people who annoy me.’

‘You went out of your way to support my case. I really appreciate that.’

‘I said it was nothing, didn’t I?’

‘It’s just––I guess it’s been a while since anybody has come to my defence.’

‘What do you mean?’ Toph tilts her head. ‘This has happened before?’

‘Not exactly like that, no. I’ve just always been the mother of the group. So, my own battles I’ve had to handle alone. It was nice I didn’t have to do that this time. If that makes sense.’

‘It makes sense. But if you don’t wanna be all motherly, maybe you should stop acting that way.’

‘You can’t really. Not when you’ve had to be since your own died.’

Toph stiffens. ‘Ah.’

‘It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it that way,’ Katara’s voice trails off, and it’s a sad sound. The sound of something withering and dying. Toph doesn’t say anything, in case Katara might speak again, but Katara is worryingly quiet.

‘You know, when mothers cry, it always means the end of the world or something. That’s what it feels like when _you_ cry, Katara.’

This earns Toph a small, delicate laugh. Katara sniffs, and Toph knows, for certain, she’s crying. ‘I’m sorry. You’d think after all this time I’d be over this.’

‘I don’t think that,’ Toph blurts out. ‘I think you’d be stupid if you tried to be.’

Sometimes, Toph’s blunt manner has its perks. Katara has missed Toph’s honesty. ‘It never stops hurting. I just––I wish it would stop hurting _so_ much.’ She wipes her eyes, her cheeks moist from tears. Toph hears her sniff again, the sound of movement–– _she’s going to walk away_.

Frantic, if not concerned, Toph reaches out and grabs Katara’s hand. ‘It’s all right. I know you’re sad.’

Rarely does Katara allow herself to break down, let alone in front of another person. But there’s something about Toph which she trusts. Toph may not be able to see her agony, yet she can _feel_ it. She can _hear_ it, and that’s more than anybody has managed to do.

Katara rests into her, and allows herself to cry a little more. It feels good, to let it all out. To let all of these emotions out after holding them in for so long. Not even Aang had witnessed her mourn after the war. But sometimes, especially now, it’s all so overwhelming and she can’t _take it_ anymore.

Hesitantly, Toph wraps her arms around Katara’s waist, encouraging her to sit slightly across her lap. Toph feels her tremble, the break every time she inhales; how much she’s trying to not burst into tears. All she’s conscious of is Katara, and it’s almost paralysing. 

Katara is so many sensations. So warm, so soft, so hurt and destroyed, and barely able to keep going. The amount she has gone through from such an early childhood. _It takes lifetimes to recover from such trauma_. Toph gently runs her hand up and down Katara’s back, travelling her spine, and caressing her. Katara inhales sharply at the affection, and tightens her hold on the other woman.

It nearly makes Toph sob too. Makes her eyes sting. Makes her throat narrow, and her heart ache in the fact Katara is so _upset_. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Katara holds back a cry. ‘This isn’t fair. You didn’t come here to make me feel better.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Toph replies. And, honestly, she doesn’t. ‘I just… I wish I knew what to say…’

‘You don’t have to say anything. It’s nice that you’re listening. That’s all.’

‘Well, I’m all ears.’

‘I know.’

Toph touches her face, fingers passing her jawline, and she pictures her. Her grief, and wonderful, tortured eyes. She tries to capture a face in her mind, and it’s so _stricken_ with pain. 

Reacting to Toph’s careful––and surprisingly soft––touch, Katara raises herself. Their cheeks brush together, and she exhales slowly, closing her eyes. Toph stops suddenly, all too aware of how close they are now. Not only is the young bender inexperienced with intimacy, but it’s all _so much_ to take in. How Katara feels, how she smells, her how breath rushes across her lips.

The fact tears continue to fall, and drop into Toph’s open palm. 

Katara rests her forehead against hers, and she reaches for Toph’s face. Holding it steady between her hands, and wanting her to ease into this. Whatever this is, she wants Toph to feel comfortable; to know this is _okay_. That they can have this. 

They can be close like this, be vulnerable with each other, and nobody has to know.

It’s all so much. So much, and it’s so lovely, so wonderful, so _frightening_.

‘Are you okay?’ Her voice comes out shaken, and Toph is admittedly embarrassed. She’s never allowed emotions to show this easily.

Katara nods, refusing to let her go. ‘I’m just so happy you’re here.’ 

No one has ever been _happy_ to have Toph around. They’ve enjoyed her comedic tactics, the fact she’s incredibly useful and, not to mention, smart. But to be _happy_ she’s near? 

Not for her earthbending, or her sarcasm, or her logic. Katara is just happy Toph, in everything that she is, is with with her.

Toph doesn't know how to respond. She considers making some _smart_ remark, but can’t bring herself to. This is all tender, all so close, and intimate and amazing. She can’t really _breathe_ , let alone _speak_.

‘Do you mind? I… I want to stay with you a bit longer tonight.’

‘Oh, okay.’ Toph acts as if she couldn’t care less, but they both know she cares more than anything right now. ‘Do what makes you feel better.’

How much Toph would _kill_ to see Katara. 

Just to see a smile, the _slightest_ indication that she’s feeling better. How much Toph would kill just to _see_ Katara, see how truly beautiful she is; how lucky the world is to even steal a _glimpse_ of her. Toph places a hand on Katara’s back, and allows Katara to fall into her.

If her company is what Katara desires, if Toph is what Katara needs to recover, then so be it.

Whatever it takes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on making this a short love story, and do hope to update frequently if there's time.
> 
> Please leave some feedback and/or kudos. I really would love to know if I have an audience out there. Thank you so much for reading! I intend to update tomorrow. Prepare for more angst.


	3. iii

     She wakes up from a dream, and opens her eyes to the dark. It’s been a while since she’s felt the cold. A shiver travels down her spine, causing her to shudder. Katara rolls onto her side, pulling the sheets tighter around her body. The sun hasn’t risen yet. The snow hasn’t stopped falling. And she’s too afraid to fall asleep.

As quietly as possible, Katara throws off the sheets and stands to her feet. The floor is difficult to rest on, anyway, and it isn’t doing her back any favours. 

Crossing the room, she notices that the fire is still roaring with life. Katara prepares some warm tea, proceeds for the window and opens the shutters. The moon is so bright, she has to squint; snowflakes twinkle, floating through the air.

Katara folds her arms in an attempt to stay warm. Tries her hardest to let go of the dream she had. If only her mother’s face would stop reappearing; if only she could stop picturing her own brother dying in the claws of fire. She wonders if Sokka ever worries about her too. If he also has the very same nightmares, and wakes up in the middle of the night.

It’s the corpse. The burnt flesh. Her mother’s demise which refuses to budge. 

She can still taste the _stench_.

‘Can’t sleep either?’

Katara jumps in surprise. Toph must have descended the stairs, because she’s now standing in the doorway, slightly drowsy. Katara smiles at the mess of her hair. If anything, it’s cute, but remarkable how somebody can be so cavalier about their appearance. ‘I was about to prepare some tea. Would you like some as well?’

Toph shrugs. Katara takes this as a _yes_ , and pours for them both. When she hands the mug over, Toph says, ‘What’s your excuse then?’

‘Pardon?’

‘For not sleeping, I mean.’

‘Oh.’ Katara sighs, and throws herself down into the nearest chair. ‘I had a bad dream.’

‘This isn’t the first time. Maybe you shouldn’t think about bad things, then you won’t have bad dreams.’

‘I’ve tried that one,’ Katara admits. ‘More importantly, why are you awake? You’re no light sleeper.’

True. As soon as Toph’s head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light. ‘Wind is loud tonight. That’s why.’ Katara frowns, not sure if she believes her or not. She sips on her tea, watching Toph come forward slightly. Her feet brush past the sheets on the floor, and she stops. ‘Is it comfy to sleep down there?’

‘Not exactly.’

Toph hesitates, her thoughts lost somewhere. Turns away. ‘Well, I’m gonna go back to bed.’ Katara can’t help feel disappointed. She wouldn’t have minded some company. But, in a hurry, Toph adds: ‘You can come too. If you want.’

‘You won’t mind?’

‘I don’t care.’

A smile reaches her lips, and Katara follows Toph to bed. She reaches out for her, in case she requires assistance to get under the sheets, but this _is_ Toph. Who’s more than capable to take care of herself. Katara joins Toph on the other side of the bed, and snuggles into the warmth of the sheets. It feels wonderful to rest her head on a pillow.

Katara moves onto her side. Toph faces the ceiling, and has apparently fallen to sleep already. Lucky. Katara shuffles closer, just to feel her warmth; know, for certain, she isn’t alone. Maybe this is recent, or maybe she’s always felt this way, but Katara feels so _safe_ around her. She only hopes that the feeling is mutual. 

Then she’s dreaming. Dragged into a deep place of her own imagination. And she’s a small child, running and running, her legs about ready to snap. From afar, she can see her mother. She waits, arms open, desperate to hug her daughter. And she’s _smiling_. Her mother is smiling, calling out for her; _begging her to run faster before it’s too late_.

Suddenly, Katara trips. She crashes to the ground, and it’s hot and hard, bruising her small body. She raises her head, tears beginning to pour, and it’s too late. A corpse collapses in front of her, its skin burnt off entirely, eyes wide in terror, mouth agape, and she screams. She bursts into tears and wails out at the horror, but when she tries to move, her limbs refuse to work.

Then more bodies.

More deaths. People are dying and falling apart everywhere she turns––

Katara jolts awake. She sits upright, gasping, sweat trickling down her temple. For a moment, she’s stumped; she’s confused. She’s utterly petrified. Until, gradually, it all comes _screaming_ back. Nothing but a nightmare. Simply another bad dream. 

She blinks. The room is dark. The moon is still alive in the sky. 

No one is here to hurt her.

Katara inhales. Wipes her eyes. Her tears taste of salt, of something unforgivable. 

There is the sound of somebody breathing softly nearby. Katara swallows back a cry, and collapses into bed again. She doesn’t hesitate to shuffle closer to where Toph rests, and wrap her arms around her. Katara buries her face into the back of her shoulder, and shudders. How much she would give to stop dreaming about death.

When Toph stirs, Katara only clings onto her tighter.

‘’S the matter?’

‘Go back to sleep,’ Katara whispers.

Toph is silent for a while, and Katara hopes she’s fallen asleep.

Until: ‘Katara?’

‘I’m okay.’

‘But you’re trembling.’ _And your heart is racing, your pulse is too fast_. ‘I know you’re lying.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Pause. Toph moves, but Katara only tightens her grip. ‘Please don’t. Go back to sleep. It was only a dream.’

_Only_. Toph doesn’t believe it. She decides to do as Katara wishes, although it is impossible for her to sleep now. Katara’s heartbeat is much too loud to ignore. Toph holds her breath, dreading the possibility that Katara might cry again, that she might sob herself to sleep. That she truly thinks she’s genuinely alone, when a friend is right beside her.

Gradually, slowly, the pace of Katara’s heart calms. Quietens. 

Neither of them go back to sleep, and it’s one of many secrets they keep from each other.

 

 

 

 

     Finally, when the sun rises and the snow stops falling, Katara is still holding onto Toph as if her life depends on it. 

Maybe, right now, it does.

So the very second Toph pulls away, and escapes the bed as quietly as possible, Katara’s body screams in her absence.

The waterbender doesn’t hurry to follow. She touches the place where Toph lay, and idly switches to her side of the bed. The pillow smells of her, the sheets smell of her. Katara scrunches her eyes shut. _Everything smells of Toph, and it makes her so content_. Katara stays where she is for a while. Half an hour, an hour, two hours. 

She loses track of time, and it’s the familiar scent of tea which pulls her from her stupor.

Fluttering her eyes open, Katara smiles up at Toph who offers her the drink. ‘This is unusual of you,’ she teases, sitting upright to take the tea.

Toph folds her arms. ‘Enjoy it while it lasts.’

‘Hey, thanks for last night. I didn’t mean to wake you up if I did.’ Katara watches her, sipping her tea, and expects Toph to make some kind of comment. Or to walk away, and leave the topic alone. Avoid it one way or another.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Toph replies, but Katara notices the subtle smile. ‘I’m going out. See you.’

‘Wait––where are you going?’

‘Eh. Just gonna look around.’

Katara narrows her brows. ‘Never took you as one to sightsee.’

Toph grins at that. ‘Don’t wait up.’ Then she’s out of the room, and exiting the hut. Once the door shuts behind her, Katara places the mug of tea down. Hugs her knees. It is never pleasant when she’s left to her own thoughts.

Starting to get restless, Katara abandons the bed. She forgets about her tea, and she’s about to go downstairs, when she spots a scrap of white paper on the floor. Katara picks it up. Handwriting is on the front, written in fancy cursive. 

It’s a snippet of a sentence from a letter: … _hoping to hear from you soon._

Odd. Katara can’t recall receiving a letter like this, or ripping one up even.

She lowers the paper. Turns to the small bin nearby and picks out the remaining corners to the letter. It’s easy to fit back together; like a jigsaw puzzle. The letter is brief, but demanding, and written by Toph’s father. He’s asking how long she intends to be away for, that it has been two years since he last saw her, that he misses her and hopes she’s well.

And, when convenient, if she could write back to him.

Katara catches her breath. While she’s aware Toph has a difficult relationship with her parents, surely she wouldn’t be _this_ uncaring towards them. To rip up her father’s letter without giving him a chance first? Katara jars her teeth, annoyed. Sometimes, Toph can be the most ungrateful person she’s ever had the displeasure of knowing.

What she would _give_ , just to see her own parents again. To see her mother if only for a _second_ , and here Toph is, willingly refusing to have anything do with her mother and father–– _who are still alive_.

Katara almost feels betrayed herself.

For now, she won’t allow this to ruin her day. Toph probably won’t return for a while, so Katara focusses on other priorities instead. It shan’t take long until her first lesson begins anyway, and the last thing she wants is to be distracted.

 

 

 

 

     ‘You look tired.’

_Tired of what? Of you? Of myself? Tired of how somebody can be so damned self-centred?_ Katara restrains herself. It’s nearing late afternoon, and they haven’t eaten all day. Their legs are tired, their heads are heavy, but Katara hasn’t forgotten the letter. 

She allows Toph to, at least, enter the room and sense that something is out of place.

‘I didn’t sleep,’ Katara mumbles.

‘I know,’ Toph replies, ‘You made sure I didn’t sleep either.’

Sometimes Katara just can’t decipher whether Toph is making a joke or not. Katara walks towards her, heart in her mouth, and wondering how on _earth_ she can approach the subject. If it’s her responsibility to do so. Toph is right: if Katara wants to no longer be seen as the _mother_ of the group, then maybe she should stop acting like one.

How can she stop, though, when her friends act like _children_?

‘I can’t sleep, because I’m too busy _praying_ I don’t lose anybody else that I love.’

Toph blinks. Then she takes the defence, and her voice turns grated: ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘What? Nothing! It––you know, it has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you.’

‘You’re sure making it out to be that it is! Spit it out, Katara. What’s wrong with you now?’

Katara bites down on her lip. _You! You’re what is wrong with me_. ‘I saw your father’s letter.’

‘You _what_?’

‘I didn’t mean to, but I saw it ripped up on the floor and––’

‘You read a letter written out to _me_?’ Toph scowls, and turns away. ‘It’s impossible for you to keep your nose out of other people’s business, ain’t it?’

Before she can leave the room, Katara grabs Toph by the shoulder, and whirls her around. Toph widens her eyes, taken aback, and Katara just _loses_ it. Why? Why does she have to maintain a cool manner, when Toph is wasting what’s placed in front of her?

How can she be so ungrateful?

‘Do you _know_ what I would _give_?’ Toph opens her mouth to retort, but Katara cuts through her: ‘I’m _still_ not over what happened to my mother and, for all I know, I may never see my own father again. My parents have gone, and there isn’t anything I can do. I would give my _life_ , just so I could see my mother one last time, but you? Your parents are _begging_ you to come home and you can’t even hear them––’

Katara stops.

She’s started to cry again, and she _can’t_ cry.

‘I heard you last night. You made it pretty clear how you’re feeling, but don’t turn this around, and make it about me.’

‘Toph, this isn’t about you! This is about your parents! About your family who you so selfishly left behind––’

For an uncomfortable amount of time, Toph says absolutely nothing.

She’s stunned into silence, paralysed at how Katara sounds, _what she is saying to her_. And it hurts. It _fucking_ hurts. Toph clenches her jaw, and pushes Katara back. ‘You need to _seriously_ step out of your fantasy that all families are happy and perfect! That might have been for you and your _daddy_ , but you’d better start opening your eyes, princess, because not everybody has a pretty life back home.’

Princess. Katara ignores the burn, ignores the shock of Toph pushing her away.

‘At least you _have_ a home.’

‘My home is loveless, and I’m surrounded by people who see nothing but how _blind_ I am. Do you know what that’s like? Have you actually _considered_ why I ran away? You’ve had this grudge against me for _years_ , but you’ve never cared to _think_ why I did what I did. I am _suffocating_ when I’m with them.’

Katara roughly wipes her eyes. ‘You just don’t want to understand, do you?’

‘Why don’t you just go _cry_ about it? That’s what you’re good at.’

A spear pierces her heart, and Katara regrets speaking up. She regrets patronising Toph this way, she regrets talking to her about such a silly topic. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. And here she is, weeping about something which she foolishly relates to her own life.

Toph has her reasons for distancing herself from her family. 

What happened to this morning? It had been so lovely.

Toph listens, waits for Katara’s next insult, her next criticism, and everything inside her is _yelling_ out, hating her most recent remark.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Katara is a master at so many things. And even though she is loving, that does not make her weak.

However, she stubbornly refuses to apologise. And she _is_ angry. 

Until she hears Katara walk past her, her sweet scent disappearing. Toph turns, following the sound of her movements, and then the door opens, and slams shut.

Silence.

The hut is quiet. Katara has left.

Toph is horrified to discover she’s been abandoned.

_Stupid, stupid! Why did I say that?_

_She’s_ **_left_ ** _me._

Hesitant at first, Toph approaches the door, waits a moment. She can’t hear her outside, can’t sense her; there aren’t any signs that Katara has stayed, and Toph’s heart leaps. Dread fills her, and she opens the door. 

She steps out. The snow pinches her cheeks, and she can’t feel anything except for the chill’s bite. All her senses are blocked from the snow, and as much as she tries, she can’t hear or feel Katara anywhere. There’s the wind, the snow, and her own loss.

Toph blames it on anger. The fact tears are _scorching_ her face. 

‘Katara!’ She calls out, but her voice comes out broken and terrified. 

_I can’t find her._

_What have I done?_

Toph is overwhelmed by the dark; her sight has been stolen from her, and it’s cold and so _forbidding_ , and she’s reminded of what it’s really like to be blind. What it’s like to never see a face, never witness another person’s pain––

––to not know where somebody has gone. Unable to follow them.

_Like some helpless child._

‘Toph?’

She turns to the voice, and everything comes to a complete stop. 

Before she can say a word, Katara grabs for her. Her arms come around her waist, holding onto whatever part of her that she can. 

Toph reacts immediately, frantically reaching out. 

_She hasn’t gone anywhere. She never went. She wasn’t going to leave after all_. 

Toph shudders at the thought, at how much she truly doesn’t deserve her. She wants to hate Katara for making her eyes burn with tears, for making her feel so _helpless_. For making her care _this much_ about another person.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to walk out, I just––’ Katara’s words are useless, and she can barely hear _herself_. Everything that’s happened is too much, and her voice is stolen.

Toph doesn’t know what else to do. She throws herself at Katara, and cuddles her so tight, so fiercely their lungs might break––

––just in case Katara dares leaves her again.

Just in case she _dares_.

But Katara isn’t going anywhere, and she’s in shock at what she has done. 

_At what she can do to this poor girl._

It’s enough to make her start crying again. This time, she doesn’t cry for her mother, for Sokka, for her broken family, but for what–– _for who_ ––she nearly lost in her grief.

‘ _Don’t do that again_.’

Katara’s heart is about to shatter. She buries her face in the crook of her neck, and swears _never, never, never_. 

_I’ll never let you go._

They share a silent apology for all of their stupid mistakes, for their cruelty and sharp words. 

As Katara moves slightly, just to see her, to look at her, she’s grappled in an urgency to kiss the damage. 

Her fingers caress Toph’s cheek, over her lips, and Katara leans into her. Closes her eyes, and wishes all the pain away.

‘Come back with me,’ Katara says, on the verge of _pleading_.

(Because a part of her fears, _a part of her knows_ , that Toph has every reason to walk away.)

Toph finds her hand, and their fingers intertwine, tangled and stubborn. She refuses to be seen, refuses Katara to see what she’s done to her, so pulls Katara back towards the hut. 

But she’s not quick enough: Katara notices the tears, a burning river down her cheeks, and Katara’s heart breaks.

Once they’re locked away together in the hut they share, their hands held, Katara moves in to embrace her again.

When she does, the fever in their words hurt a little less. And Katara kisses the corner of her mouth. A soft, tender gift, raptured in her own guilt. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she says again. 

Toph hears her, and wipes away what remains of her tears.

‘Yeah,’ she replies, touching where Katara kissed her for the briefest moment. ‘I’m sorry too.’

 


	4. iv

     A year ago, she was introduced to the piano.

Instruments had always been a complete mystery. They produced sound she had never heard before, and, usually, the sound was beautiful. People play instruments when they’re sad, happy; when they’re celebrating or somebody close to them has died. 

The teacher told her to try. To feel the keys, the slabs of ivory. It sort of came naturally to her. The music didn’t require much in order to be understood. As much as her parents liked to remind her, sight had nothing to do with mastering instruments. All it took was touch, patience and a genuine interest. 

When she was fifteen, she learnt how to play the piano, and managed to excel over the other students. It might just be a gift. Rooted to the earth, she has a thorough understanding of the way things work; in a way, the piano is a logical instrument, and she is a logical student. 

The piano spoke to her. Not only could she hear the music, but she could feel the vibrations each time her fingers slid across the ivory; or pushed lightly on a note. It was quite like communication. It _was_ communication; she was talking to the piano, and the piano was talking back to her. All of it was exactly as it was with earth and metalbending––they share a secret language.

It was something she wanted to tell Father about. To help him understand. So, she visited him without invitation. But the moment she walked into his office, keen to perhaps rekindle their relationship, he sent her away. 

‘ _You’re confused. You’re not my daughter. I have no idea who you are._ ’ 

Growing tired of her stubborn refusal to leave, he threatened to call the guards.

Until, finally, he told her what was really on his mind.

‘ _You’re not the daughter I raised you to be._ ’

‘ _You didn’t raise me to be anything but helpless. Look at me: I’m capable now. Aren’t you proud?_ ’

Why should she care what he thought of her? Father frowned, and that’s when the guards arrived. ‘ _I could never be proud of somebody like you._ ’ Before a guard could take her away, she slammed her heel down, causing the floor to split. She left at that point, disowned. 

It was weird. The idea of being _disowned_ didn’t sound so bad, until it became reality. 

Then he sends her a letter.

Begging her to come home. Because he made a mistake. Because he realises how proud he actually is, and he’s so very sorry. That he hopes she might possibly write back, and return to her loving parents.

Minutes ago, Katara had been holding onto her, reassuring her that she promises never to walk out like she did. That she’s sorry too. That she made a mistake, and she _hopes_ they might never have to talk to each other like that again. Minutes ago, Katara had clung to her, fingers digging into her body, and it felt as if her heart might burst from how much this woman has to offer.

She can hear Katara at the other side of the room. Toph sits down, hearing her; and they’re silent for a while. Uncertain how to approach each other now. What happened was so intense and overwhelming, they’re puzzled and at a loss for words. 

Then, abruptly, Toph tells Katara about Father. Katara immediately freezes, and listens to everything she has to say. From leaving home two years ago, to meeting all of these people who taught her so much, and then finally returning to Father. How he couldn’t even _look_ at her, how he refused to recognise her. How suddenly he didn’t want anything to do with her, and that she was his biggest disappointment. She was no daughter of his anymore.

‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’

‘I didn’t think it mattered.’

‘Toph, of course it does.’ Katara’s voice is gentle. Much too gentle. ‘If I knew, I wouldn’t have mentioned the letter. I wouldn’t have made a fuss about it. I––’ She exhales. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know you are,’ Toph replies impatiently. ‘But now you know.’

‘Is that why you came here?’

Toph is taken aback. She nearly _flinches_ at the question. 

Although she can’t deny it. There was a reason she travelled all of this way, _just_ to see Katara. Right now, Toph is relieved she can’t see Katara’s face. Can’t witness how she’s looking at her. 

‘I guess I didn’t know where else to go,’ she mutters, trying to make it a small issue. That Katara need not worry. ‘Anyway: it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.’

‘Has he ever done this before?’

Toph considers not answering. ‘Not like this, no, but I think, ever since I helped join the war effort, he’s not been proud of me. He seems to think that giving me isolation and protection is what I need. But whenever I tried to talk to him about my earthbending, or what happened when the comet arrived, he doesn’t want to listen. My mother isn’t any better.’ 

‘What does she think?’

‘Not about much,’ Toph jokes, but there’s nothing funny about parents who can’t love their own child. 

‘I’m glad you came here.’ Katara steps forward. 

‘Me too. I feel like you’re the only person I can talk to sometimes.’

‘Really?’

Toph shrugs. ‘Well––you know me better than anybody else.’ She pauses. ‘You challenge me, but at the same time, you care about me.’ And it’s something she’s never really taken for granted. ‘It was fun, travelling alone, but I missed you. Maybe you’re just easy to talk to or something.’

‘You’re easy to talk to as well. When we were younger, I always thought I got on your nerves.’

‘Oh, yeah, that’s true.’ Katara cringes, but Toph adds: ‘Not all the time, though. You had your moments, I suppose.’

Toph will never admit this to her, but Katara had _more_ than just moments. All-around, she was lovely. _Is_ lovely. Sure, she was annoying at times, but only in the way a mother or a dear friend would be. Toph wasn’t used to such genuine affection, and so had reacted aggressively. 

Until it was clear that, in order to love someone, you don’t tie them to the ground. You don’t restrict them to one place at a time. 

You _discipline_ them, and, simultaneously, you remove the rope and let them run free.

‘Out of all of us, you deserved happiness the most.’ Katara _needed_ happiness. She needed love, support. She needed to be given space to flourish and _heal_. ‘When you and Aang decided to hook up, I just hoped he would give you that.’

‘He did. We took care of each other.’

Toph is pleased to hear that, but something _snaps_. It feels close to a sting. As if she’s been cut deeply. ‘And what happened?’

‘We had other interests. Aang was focussed on building Republic City, whereas I was more focussed on finding waterbenders and teaching them.’ Katara stops. She’s thinking, thinking what to say. Aang has always been a sensitive topic. ‘I still love him,’ she whispers. ‘But, looking back, we were so _young_. We had fought a war together, and he was everything. He was my everything.’

‘Not anymore?’

‘I think, when you’re both focussed on other matters, things have to change. We didn’t want to, but we ended what we had. In a way, it allowed us to move on. Not just from the war, but even from each other. We had grown so close, after all.’ They are _still_ close. ‘I do miss him every day.’

Toph says nothing. 

When they had all gone their separate ways after the war, she convinced herself that she didn’t care too much about Katara’s relationship with Aang. She was only thirteen at the time, and, frankly, the world was much too exciting to be ignored for more trivial matters.

But the way Katara talks about him now, the way she has to hold her breath for a moment, still in love with a man who is clearly still in love with her. Toph isn’t the envious type, and she cares for her friends too much to feel anything negative towards them.

Katara is a wonderful soul. The most loving person she has ever met. 

How can Toph help herself? How can she _not_ adore somebody so broken and, yet, so kind and generous? Somebody who refuses to shatter apart, even when it feels as if the whole world is against her.

‘I see,’ she says eventually. The weight in her heart is too heavy. ‘Maybe you should try things again with him––when you’re both ready, I mean.’

‘What makes you think I want to? Sometimes, it’s easiest to let things go and start anew. Meet other people.’ She exhales. ‘Fall in love again.’ 

‘Hm.’ Toph pretends to lose interest. ‘Well, whatever. Each to their own I guess.’

There’s a long silence shared between them, and Toph’s heart is racing. She can _feel_ Katara’s eyes on her, and she can’t tell what Katara is thinking. Whether she finds her cavalier attitude rude, or if she sees right through her. 

Falling in love. What a tragedy. 

Falling in love is peeling away the armour, and being vulnerable to another person. To cry in front of them, and for _that one person_ to only witness this other side you secretly hold. Falling in love is holding each other when it all hurts a little too much. Falling in love is rushing out of the door, and calling out her name, so scared she might have possibly left you forever.

Falling in love is intoxicating, and maddening and so beautiful. 

(Falling in love is taking a step back, when you know, deep down, you don’t stand a chance.)

Maybe they’re still shaken by what happened only minutes ago.

Maybe it’s all very delayed.

Katara walks over, and stands before her.

‘Are you upset with me?’

Toph widens her eyes. ‘Upset? With _you_?’

‘Have I said something wrong?’

‘No,’ Toph says. 

‘Then, can I ask you a question?’

‘You’ve asked me loads already.’

‘Are you jealous?’

Toph’s heart stops. She smirks. ‘Jealous? Of Twinkle Toes? Ha! Why would I be jealous of _him_?’ 

‘I meant, are you jealous of _me_ when it comes to Aang?’

All the colour in her face drains away, and Toph can’t believe her mistake. ‘I…’ She never thought about that. 

Never thought that she would be jealous of _Katara_ for having the Avatar. But of _course_ Toph isn’t jealous of Katara. While she adores Aang in her own way, she’s never felt anything romantic towards him. The fact Katara would assume such nearly makes her laugh.

‘I’m not jealous.’

Katara smiles. ‘Relax, Toph.’

‘ _You_ relax. You’re the one getting in my face about this.’

Then Katara laughs, and it’s the most devastatingly wonderful sound. Toph’s heart _bleeds_ for her joy, and she nearly winces at the pain. She senses the other woman kneel down, rest a hand on her knee, and look up at her with sad joy in her eyes. ‘You make me cry sometimes. How you make me feel.’

‘I make you sad?’

‘No––despite our arguments, you do the very opposite. You make me laugh; and, when you’ve rolled over your pride, you even make me feel special.’

Toph opens her mouth to speak. Stops herself.

Then: ‘You _are_ special, Katara.’ Toph’s lower lip quivers, and she nearly allows herself to _break_. ‘And you’re lying: I do make you sad.’

_I make you cry at night. I make you bleed. I make you angry. I make you upset. I make you feel things a friend shouldn’t make you feel._

Katara’s hand slips past her knee, delicately balanced on her upper thigh, and Toph is all too aware. ‘Maybe I’m just a sad person anyway,’ Katara whispers. ‘I haven’t told anybody else this before, but… sometimes, I just think I’m destined to be sad. _It feels as if the world hates me_.’

‘Stop. _Please_.’

‘I’m sorry, I––’

‘Can you look at me?’

Toph reaches out, touches her face, and feels Katara moves to meet her eyes. 

‘I wish I could see you.’

‘You can. Can’t you? You have your own idea of what I look like.’

‘I do, but it’s not you.’

‘Toph…’ Katara leans forward. Her breath tastes sweet on her lips. ‘ _It’s perfect._ How you see me.’

And she’s telling the truth.

Nothing has been more perfect. _No one_ has been more perfect to her. 

Isolation has made Toph sharp with her words. Unsympathetic and cold. But she _listens_ , and she _imagines_ a world in her own mind, filled with colours she’s never witnessed before. Filled with faces she loves with her whole heart, and, yet, has never laid eyes on.

Toph may be blind, but her imagination is more vivid and breathtaking than the world Katara is forced to see every day.

And she would happily live in Toph’s world; picture things as she does. Be it through the vibrations in the earth, or the pictures in her mind. 

Katara looks up at her, and it’s been a while since she’s felt this way.

Felt so _out of control_ , but _overjoyed_ all the same.

‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Katara kisses her. Her lips are as soft as her voice, and she tastes of something like heaven. 

At first, Toph doesn’t move, nor does she kiss her back. 

Katara is aware of her hesitance, the fact she is being encouraged into a fairly vulnerable, and _new_ , position. Her fingertips dance across Toph’s cheeks, until she carefully holds her face between her hands. Katara inhales deeply, tilting her head; slow and gentle with her. 

When her tongue traces her lips, Toph gives in, and allows Katara to taste her. Katara breathes out, a gush of warmth, and Toph shudders at the sensation. Although she remains frozen in place, her thoughts are numb. Suddenly she’s a woman who can’t act on anything, and it’s _so much_. 

All too soon, Katara retreats, but her hands remain on Toph’s face––ensuring they’re only inches apart. 

Toph wonders if she’s about speak. 

Instead she hears a sigh, and it’s sad and breaking, and Katara is starting to think she’s upset her. 

Toph has never been an easy person to be affectionate with.

‘What’s wrong?’ Toph asks.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Katara murmurs. ‘I just don’t know how you’re feeling.’

Everything. She’s feeling everything. Everything that is Katara has drowned her senses, and she is all that Toph can feel. 

Voicing her emotions isn’t her forté, and, in all honestly, goes beyond what she’s comfortable with. However, if Katara believes Toph is enduring anything negative from this, she couldn’t be further from the truth.

Perhaps a little too roughly, Toph grabs Katara by the collar, and slams her mouth onto hers. Katara gasps softly, shocked by her response. She falls into her, hands pushing at the back of her head, encouraging her closer. Their breaths come out short, frantic, and nervous. 

They’re a bit unsure with each other. _Out of sync_. Toph’s kisses are too rushed, too demanding, as if worried Katara might up and leave at any moment. Katara touches her face again, stroking her cheeks, holding her steady. Katara pushes herself into her, and manages to take the initiative, taming Toph’s kisses with her own.

Then, finally, Toph catches on. She slows down, allows herself to be more at ease, and it’s tender and soft. 

Starting to get uncomfortable in her kneeling position, Katara manoeuvres herself to sit across Toph’s lap, causing their kiss to deepen. This sudden change results in their kisses to come to a halt. Toph catches her breath, and her hands drop to Katara’s hips, her eyes focussed away from her.

Katara smiles a little, running a hand through Toph’s hair. ‘What?’ She whispers.

‘Nothing,’ Toph’s voice comes out impressively casual. ‘I just never took you for the dominant type.’

It was a silly remark, perhaps necessary in order for Toph to feel like herself again, but Katara sniggers, bumping their noses together. She knows Toph is nervous, that this is all completely foreign to her. But Katara is pleased she’s welcomed her kisses, welcomed _her_. 

‘You’re such an idiot,’ she teases, silencing Toph with kisses before she can retort.

The comfortable weight of Katara sitting across her lap, as well as the sweetness of her lips, is all so overwhelming for Toph to manage. She’s spent her whole life being able to focus on the most important sensations her mind is introduced to, and it has helped her survive and manage difficult situations well.

But Katara? Katara is _everywhere_.

Katara’s hands are on her face, across her jawline, kissing her deeply and passionately; almost _demanding_ her. It sends a shock of excitement through Toph that she’s never felt before, and she pulls Katara down. 

Almost on impulse, Toph retreats from Katara’s mouth, trailing kisses from her neck to her collarbone. Meanwhile, she lets her palms explore Katara’s hips, her waist, how good she feels. How much she’s tempted to remove Katara’s shirt, and feel her bare skin. 

She senses Katara tense, hears her gasp, and it’s a happy sound. Toph interprets this as encouragement, and continues kissing her neck, her skin soft and warm on her lips. When Toph focusses on a more sensitive point, Katara lets out another noise, one which sends a wave of excitement through her. 

Toph retreats. 

‘Are you okay?’ Katara queries, voice wracked with worry.

Toph smiles crookedly, although she’s trembling. ‘I’m fine––I just thought you needed a moment.’

It’s all rubbish. Toph wouldn’t mind a few minutes to catch her breath too. 

Katara wraps her arms around the back of her neck, and embraces Toph close. Toph responds in kind, holding Katara across her waist. She’s suddenly so small and light and incredible, and Toph never wants to let her go. 

Despite her own sense of pride, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! These two are a marathon and a half. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this fic so far.
> 
> If you're wondering, Toph's father stating that she's "no daughter of mine" actually occurs in the comics. I think. So I had to include that into the complex relationship she has with her parents.


	5. v

     Ink spills across the letter, and she tries again.

Harsh words are used. Phrases of anger and an unwillingness to forgive, avoiding the purpose of the message altogether. 

Katara encourages an apology to be written out. It doesn’t matter who is in the wrong here. What’s important is that somebody says sorry. Most of what grounds a family is the word _sorry_ , and even if she is not to blame here, Toph should, at least, _try_ to reconcile what was done. 

Eventually she gives in, and allows Katara to go ahead. The last thing Father deserves is an _apology_ , but maybe Katara is right: there’s more to gain from saying sorry, even if it wounds her pride a little. In the long-run, it’s worth it.

Afterwards Katara reads aloud what she wrote. The letter is soft, slightly stern, and riddled with an orphan’s guilt.

It no longer sounds as if it’s written from a disowned child, but from an irreparably damaged soul.

Toph takes the letter which has clearly been written to somebody else entirely.

‘So, who are _you_ angry with? Your father?’ After all this time, is Katara _still_ cold towards her father for leaving? Toph twitches a smile. ‘Or, is your mother coming into play here?’

‘I’m not angry with my mother,’ Katara replies. 

‘What is it then?’

It has never been about anger, not even about vengeance. Katara has simply wanted this whole matter to _die_. To stop breathing life into something which has plagued her for so long. And it isn’t just _her own_ mother either. 

How their love can rip apart a child.

‘She gave her life, so she could spare mine. I learnt this only three years ago. From the man who took her away.’ The memory hasn’t stopped hurting, and tears drown her eyes. ‘The Fire Nation had been searching for the last Southern Waterbender––my mother lied, and said she was the one they were looking for. Not me.’

‘I’m sorry, Katara.’

‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault.’ Although she feels she might break here and now. ‘I spent my whole life trying to find the man who killed her. When I did find him, I––I couldn’t do it. Initially, I thought I was just _weak_. I was so determined to make him feel the same pain as I, but I couldn’t even lay a _finger_ on him. Because all I saw was an old man, barely able to stand on his own two feet. There was nothing left for me to take from him.’

What resolved her in the end was _to walk away_. 

Yet, even now, it keeps her awake at night. Knowing the man who murdered her mother still walks the streets.

How is it fair? How is it fair that he is allowed to breathe, a loveless creature, whereas Katara’s mother was murdered so young?

How is _that_ fair?

Katara closes her eyes at the sensation of Toph’s palm caressing her cheek. She leans into her touch, and tries her hardest to rid of the thought. To abandon this torturous puzzlement that she made a mistake; that she shouldn’t have let him run free.

That he doesn’t _deserve_ mercy.

‘It was the right thing to do––I wish I had the strength to walk away.’

Katara is genuinely surprised by Toph’s words. ‘Really?’ She looks up at her, expecting a lie, but Toph’s expression has gone soft. She nods briefly. ‘Out of everybody in the group, I expected you to understand the least. I don’t mean that in a bad way: you’re the sort of person who gets things done.’ She smiles. ‘Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I took you along with me instead. Maybe you would have killed him for me.’ It’s meant as a joke, but Toph hears the hint of curiosity.

However her curiosity is meaningless. Toph shrugs. ‘Back then, I don’t think I would have known any better. So if you asked, I might have done the job for you. I’m gonna be honest: I’m pretty relieved I _didn’t_ go with you.’ She pauses. ‘You wanna know something? Death is the easy way out. _That_ would have been merciful of you.’

A hot tear meets her fingertips, and Toph heart jumps. She moves her palm, wiping away Katara’s grief. 

‘You said there was nothing left of him––you made the right decision, Katara. You would have killed a ghost. Instead, you’ve allowed him to breathe a little while longer: let him suffer it through.’

Katara sighs deeply. ‘I always thought I’d been too generous. I’d given him too much. And maybe that’s just who I am: I’m too weak to hurt anybody. I couldn’t even handle Azula––’ her voice catches at the image of that tragic girl, ‘––and, instead of allowing Zuko to kill her, I had her tied down. I let her live, Toph, and I don’t know if I should have. Out of everybody I’ve faced, she deserved mercy the most. Maybe death would have been kinder. Wouldn’t it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Zuko visited a few weeks ago, and I asked him about his sister. She’s locked away in a mental asylum, and _I_ put her in there. I forced her into a tiny room, behind bars, where nobody can hear her cry out––’

‘That’s not your responsibility––’

‘It _is_.’ Katara looks up at her. ‘I made the final blow. Her life was in my hands, and I let her go.’ She has thought about visiting her. Looking Azula in the eye, and saying how _sorry_ she is. How sorry she is that her mother couldn’t love her, that her father was so _awful_ , and that she was too _weak_ to save her life. She wants Azula to _know_ there’s good in her, somewhere. _Nobody is born evil_. ‘I think about her more than I should.’ She catches her breath. ‘What would you have done?’

Toph widens her eyes at the question. She hasn’t thought about Azula since the war, because she’s that irrelevant to her own life. The team were scattered during the climax of the battle, and Toph was obviously clueless about what was happening between Katara and Azula. Even afterwards, Katara kept the story to herself, and Toph doesn’t know if this is the first time she’s spoken out.

A younger self would have shrugged off the dilemma. It doesn’t matter anymore. Azula is locked away, and she deserves to rot.

But they’re not children anymore.

‘What was necessary,’ she says, tone blunt. ‘I would have fought her happily. That doesn’t mean my decision would have been the correct one, though.’

‘I don’t know about that.’

‘You’re a good person, Katara. From what you’ve told me, I haven’t thought you weak or indecisive or merciful or any of that shit. I just think, at the end of the day, you’re _good_. Even when you have every reason not to be, you’re always kind.’

Katara smiles sadly, and holds Toph’s hand. She squeezes, her breath escaping in a rush.

_A good person_. Maybe that’s all she can be: good. Maybe _goodness_ is all she has to offer, and _being good_ is her way of survival.

Maybe she can’t kill a murderer, maybe she can’t destroy a man who took away her own mother, and maybe that makes her weak. Maybe that makes her pathetic. Maybe that makes her good, and passionate, and kind and the things Toph describes her to be.

The things Toph sees her as.

‘You’re right,’ Katara allows. ‘I am angry at my mother sometimes. Because I stupidly use reason that she _did_ leave us, even if she had no other choice.’

‘It’s all right to feel that way.’

Katara allows those words to sink in, but she’s pulled from her thoughts when Toph slips her hand away. Opening her eyes, Katara watches Toph reach for another sheet of paper, and a pen. She slides them both over. 

‘Maybe write a letter to her? Get it over with.’

It’s a bizarre suggestion, especially from Toph, but Katara agrees to try anyway.

Write out what she’s thinking. Erase it all.

 

 

 

 

 

     Ten minutes pass, and after her thoughts and emotions are written out, ink splotched like tears, she folds the letter and breathes. She lets everything out: her anger, her betrayal, how impossible it is to stitch a broken heart. She allows her mother to know her confusion, the fact she doesn’t know what to feel, whether she made the right decisions.

Once it’s all out, written on paper, it feels as if a massive weight has been relieved from her chest.

Katara gives the letter to Toph. ‘Will you take this away?’ And now it’s all revealed, Katara doesn’t want to see the letter again. She doesn’t want to be reminded. _She wants to finally move on_. Ridding this letter is the only way how.

‘Sure.’

Toph removes the letter from her grasp. Katara slumps her shoulders, exhaling, inhaling––suddenly the air tastes fresh and new. The start of something better. She listens to Toph’s footsteps while she leaves the small hut, steps outside, and buries the letter. Buries it so deep under the earth, only somebody of her capabilities is capable of digging it out.

Until it’s gone. Hidden beneath soil, grass and snow.

Their own littered footprints.

Katara walks out to meet her afterwards. When she comes over to embrace her, to press her body to her own, Toph doesn’t flinch this time. As if she’s been expectant, as if she wants the very same; as if she _needs_ to hold Katara right now––assure her the correct decision was made, and now it _is_ time to let things go.

To vanish, and crumble.

Ash on her fingertips, blown into the quiet breeze.

 

 

 

 

 

     Father’s letter is gone when Katara returns after the day. She looks at the place where the envelope rested, wondering whether Toph might have pushed past her pride, and tried to reconcile. If Toph might have it in her to do what Katara thinks is right, to ignore her own arrogance, and follow through. 

So to see the letter gone and delivered, Katara’s heart swells.

(Somebody listened to her.)

Katara strips away her coat, kicks off her boots. She prepares a fire, and proceeds to make warm tea. The scent travels into the next room, a gentle wind of aroma. As she pours them both a mug, she’s conscious of Toph nearby. Notices how her hand stretches out to touch the wall, to memorise whereabouts she is, and it hits Katara that Toph can’t sense in this hut.

This whole time, Toph has been completely blind.

The only reason she’s stayed, the only _person_ who outweighs her sight, is Katara.

All of a sudden, Katara places the pot down. Toph stops, turns her head slightly; expression close to boredom.

What comes out isn’t a rant, or some ridiculous apology.

‘ _Toph_.’

But a confession, locked away in a name.

It makes her smile. Makes her want to _weep_. That somebody in this world cares about her _this_ deeply.

‘Are you crying?’

‘Yes,’ Katara admits, but it’s no hardship. 

Now it all makes sense. Now it makes sense why Toph came here, why Toph has gone out of her way to help Katara heal. Why Toph can’t see anything, and hasn’t said a word to Katara. 

Because Katara is enough. Katara is more than enough. Katara is better than being able to see, Katara is better than imagining another world in her mind. Because Katara is more beautiful, and more colourful, and more delightful than anything else.

These past few days have felt like a dance, slow and gradual, lost in a room burning around them.

Katara closes the distance between them. She takes Toph’s face between her hands, and kisses her mouth. She kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her, and she’s raptured by her entirely. By the things they say and don’t say, by their cruelty and their undying commitment to each other. By everything they’ve shared together since they were only children, up to this point.

Tears belonging to Katara fall into their kisses, but it is no longer grief which drives her. It is something very different, something fulfilling and kind and generous and _merciful_. 

Katara’s breath is hot and sweet, rushed across Toph’s cheek; her fingers dancing and pulling into her hair. Her palms warm and soft against her skin, timid and urgent, feeling the curve of her waist beneath her clothes. Searching endlessly for her, _wanting her_ , before abruptly retreating.

For a moment, they stop, their lips mere inches apart. Katara is conscious of the fact Toph is still unaware of what is around her; that all she can touch, feel and hear is Katara. And, the least Katara can be is _patient_. 

Even so, Toph is not ruled by her blindness. Her hand fists around Katara’s collar, and she pulls her into a rough kiss. As she tilts her head to deepen the buss, a shock of excitement is sent through her, and she hears Katara moan softly.

It’s the most incredible sound. Toph releases her lips, exhaling sharply. 

‘I think you’re the most wonderful person in the world,’ Katara finally confesses. ‘And I’m so fortunate that I have you.’

Nobody has ever described Toph in such a delicate manner. She’s barely able to register what Katara has said, before she’s being kissed again. 

This time, Katara’s lips are much more persuasive and demanding, her fingers knotting into Toph’s clothes. It’s very transparent what she wants–– _who she wants_ ––and Toph’s feelings are nothing short of mutual.

Each kiss is like a shot of electricity, fire burning her lungs; and Katara’s palms are _scorching_ as they caress her neck, her collarbone, pulling desperately at her clothes. She can hear her breathe, can hear her heart beating so quickly, Toph is afraid it might actually _burst_. Katara’s moans are quiet, and soft, and _echo_ in her mind. 

They tug at each other, managing to remove some of their clothing. Toph doesn’t wait to touches Katara’s stomach, her hips; her warmth resonating through her palms. How Katara’s chest rises as she inhales, the sudden jump of her heart when Toph’s hand brushes across her breast. 

Katara rests her forehead against hers, and takes Toph’s wrist, impatiently placing it when it originally was. They’re both shocked by her forwardness, and Katara immediately tenses at the touch.

What always amazes her is how _gentle_ Toph is. Her hands are rough and unloved, a life of fighting with rock and earth. But when she touches Katara, when she massages her breast, and kisses her mouth, _she’s gentle_ , and it’s enough to send an already frazzled woman mad. 

Before, with Aang, it had always been gradual. Paced lovingly and patiently. _They took their time with each other_. Before, with Aang, it was simply that: _loving_. Aang made love to her as if she were art, as if she were his very redemption. His own angel, sent in to swoop him off his feet.

With Toph, it’s _so urgent_. Their lips are sore, their skin bruised, and Katara moans into her mouth, touching her chest, pushing her back up against the table. Toph inhales, pulling at Katara’s hair, and allowing herself to submit slightly.

Katara breaks their kiss, and Toph can feel each breath. Every time her hands hold her wrists, her hands, her waist; _Katara needs to balance herself_. Needs a moment. Just a moment. _Her heart is about ready to explode from the way Toph makes her feel_. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers, and neither are sure if the apology is truly meant for Toph, or for herself. 

Slowly, Katara comes forward; kisses her so lightly, Toph can barely feel it.

One of them initiates it all. Makes the decision. Because they’re kissing again, devastatingly in love and pulling the other down with them. They tumble to the floor, and it’s Toph who endures the impact. She arches her back, clenching her jaw, and allowing Katara to take her. And she’s _perfect_. She’s lovely, and wonderful, and everything Toph knows her to be.

And how she _touches_ her. Toph grasps at her hair again, pulling, and pushing her further inside her warmth. Katara’s hands grab her thighs, nails digging into her skin. Her tongue is hot, slow and refusing to hesitate. 

Toph is silent, her hips bucking to meet Katara’s tongue. She presses her lips together, turning her head, and scrunching her eyes shut. 

Then, suddenly, Toph tenses all over, grips onto Katara, and lets out a muffled groan. The knot in her stomach loosens, and white, scorched pleasure ripples through her body. She exhales, catching her breath; feeling Katara crawl atop to kiss her lips. They move into each other, rock together––Katara is shaking, and exclaims when Toph’s fingers dance across her hips, and stroke her warmth. 

It’s all she needs to fall onto her back, close her eyes, and _let go_. Katara clings onto thin air, and exhales slowly, focusing entirely on how Toph’s touch. Toph is clearly new to all of this, but she’s keeping it together spectacularly well, and not once does she express any kind of doubt. 

Katara knocks her head back, swallowing a cry, and reaches out. She finds Toph, and pulls her close, kissing her mouth hungrily. The room is filled with the sound of her moans. She bucks her hips against Toph’s fingers, which are now buried deeper inside her. Katara digs her heel into the floor, and opens her eyes. 

A part of her is thankful Toph can’t see her expression; how emotionally wrecked this woman can make her feel. 

‘I don’t want you to stop.’

Toph wouldn’t _dare_ tease her that way. It’s obvious to her how much Katara needs this and, right now, it’s impossible for her to make light of the situation. Katara has a hold on her completely, and she’s breathtaking. Toph moves further into her, and Katara jolts at the sudden twist of pleasure. Her hips move relentlessly to meet the heel of her palm, and a moan shudders from her parted lips.

When Katara whispers her name, it sounds like heaven; makes the earth crash around her.

As she’s about to reach her climax, Katara frantically grips onto Toph, and presses her mouth into the crook of her neck. An attempt to silence her noise. The heel of her foot rests on Toph’s hip, and she tightens her hold on the other woman. Despite her urgency to be silent, Katara comes in a high-pitched, desperate wail.

They fall into each other, arms and legs tangled, a mess in their lovemaking. 

And Toph listens to Katara’s heart slow down, listens to her body ease; listens while Katara finds her breath, and sighs. 

‘Toph?’

Opening her eyes, she moves slightly, acknowledging Katara’s call.

‘Will you stay with me a while longer?’

Stay here, until they’ve calmed down, and recovered.

Stay _here_ , in this hut they’ve managed to share together, and stay here forever.

_Don’t leave._

It is heartbreaking to hear Katara request something so simple.

Toph kisses just below Katara’s earlobe, and scatters a few more down her neck. She can imagine looking at this woman, and losing her mind at the sight of such an angel.

As she lies with her, the rhythm of Katara’s heart becoming a melody of home, Toph is nearly reduced to tears.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

 


	6. vi

     At some point in the night, Katara wakes up from a dream; although, this time, it doesn’t leave her shuddering. 

Immediately she rolls onto her side, and tugs Toph close; the young earthbender is torn from her sleep, and her first thought is that Katara has had another nightmare. 

Before she can say a word, however, Katara whispers: ‘I wish we could stay like this––forever.’ A part of her knows that shan’t happen. They have their separate interests, and Toph has never been the committed type. Katara can’t picture her best friend settling down. Not for anybody.

After what they had shared, it’s hard to accept that fact.

It hurts, even, that this moment they have together is, indeed, temporary. 

What happened between them occurred so abruptly, Toph hasn’t really thought ahead. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure Katara definitely wanted this until her confession. 

Yet they’re holding each other beneath the sheets, and neither can recall the last time they had ever slept so peacefully. 

‘Katara,’ she says, ‘You’re a fucking idiot if you think I don’t feel the same way.’

There’s a long silence. One which lasts too long, and all Toph can hear is the creak of the house, and the quiet night. She remains awake, just in case Katara might be considering the appropriate words; and she remains awake, because she’s not entirely sure if she’s said the right thing or not.

Eventually, Toph is convinced Katara has fallen asleep, and so relaxes. 

When she does, she hears the faintest sound from Katara; so quiet, it might have got lost in the silence.

‘ _Oh_.’

 

 

 

 

 

     Sometimes Aang visits unexpectedly, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s going on between his closest friends. 

He arrives with great plans, and wants to create a city from the aftermath of the war. King Zuko has happily agreed to follow Aang every step of the way, and plans have already been set in motion. 

As far as Toph is concerned, it’s all ideals and none of it is reality yet. Birthing a city is a huge deal, and it’s up to Aang on whether he’s willing to see this to the end. Yet his passion cannot be questioned, and Toph is taken by surprise when he even asks for her help. 

‘What d’you want me to do?’

‘You’re an earthbender, and you’re the greatest alive. What do _you_ think I want you to do?’

Toph can feel Katara’s eyes on her. If she were to help Aang, that would mean moving away. That would mean _committing_ herself to something; it would mean some kind of control would be placed on her. And it’s something she’s not only used to from her parents’ treatment towards her, but something she’d much rather avoid.

It’s obvious to her that Aang is desperate for her aid. 

‘What happened with the Fire Nation––I can’t allow to happen again, and I want it to be made clear that we are all _one_ Nation. We might be able to manipulate different elements, but we’re all the same. I hope that we’ll be able to deliver that message, as long as our plans go through smoothly. I’m creating a city that’s not for Air Nomads, or Firebenders, but for _everyone_. And I need your help to do that.’

‘Sweet. I think I can offer a hand,’ Toph smiles crookedly. 

To her surprise, Katara sounds encouraging. ‘Aang, this is wonderful! I’m so happy for you.’

‘Thanks, Katara.’ There’s a pause. ‘Listen, Sokka should be returning to the mainland soon, and it’d be great if I could steal you both for a while. If I intend to make this city, I obviously require security. A government, in a way. You’re the smartest person I know. Maybe you could provide some insight for me?’

‘Of course I will.’

Toph tenses slightly. She can’t see them talk to each other, but their affection hasn’t escaped her. Aang continues to speak of Katara highly, still looks at her as if she’s his world, and it puts Toph on edge. 

Being jealous is the one emotion she detests.

It’s out of her control, and it only convinces her how she _really_ feels about Katara.

Aang departs with a sense of accomplishment. He and Katara promise to meet each other again very soon, and then the door closes. When Katara returns to Toph, the earthbender is already out of her seat, eager to leave herself.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Out,’ Toph says bluntly.

When she escapes the hut, the wind is chilling on her skin, and she shivers. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have an idea of what she wants, or where she’s travelling to. She just needs to _breathe_ , to think over what has happened; what Aang has offered her, _how Aang still speaks to Katara_ and why––

––why does that _bother_ Toph?

Kissing her, touching her, hearing her whisper wonderful promises in the night as they lie together––why does it all mean so much?

She kicks the snow, spraying white powder everywhere.

What it means is as clear as day.

 

 

 

 

 

     Father responds quickly, and Katara reads out his letter.

There’s an apology mixed in with a hope to reconcile with his only childd. It’s all formal and written from a stranger Toph knows very well.

But it’s something, and she can hear Katara’s joy.

‘Maybe this is a good thing?’

Toph doesn’t know about that. 

Still, she could kiss Katara for her optimism. 

‘Maybe.’

 

 

 

 

 

     Before she departs to help Aang build his grand city, Toph walks over to where Katara is seated. She softly places a hand a little above her chest, and then kisses her.

As if it’s what they do daily.

As if they’ve been doing this for a hundred years.

Katara smiles against her lips, and reaches out to touch her. 

But Toph doesn’t linger. 

‘See you,’ she says, face blank.

‘I’ll miss you.’

Toph stops, and Katara’s heart falters at the way Toph’s expression betrays her thoughts: _I would_ ** _kill_** _for you._

But, ‘Thanks,’ she replies.

After she’s gone, and Katara is alone, she wonders if her feelings are foolish. She wonders if kissing Toph, holding her in the way she had, had meant nothing to Toph in the end. Falling in love with an impatient, stubborn and arrogant woman like Toph might have been a mistake.

Katara’s lips still tingle from the kiss. 

And, despite her doubts, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

 

 

 

     There’s no word from Toph for several weeks, but Aang enjoys remaining in constant communication. When Katara eventually asks about Toph’s wellbeing, Aang grins as if he has the greatest secret to share. He takes Katara’s hand, and squeezes warmly.

‘It’s okay,’ he nods. ‘I don’t think she can stop thinking about you either.’

Katara frowns. ‘This is _Toph_ _Beifong_ we’re talking about.’

Then Aang shrugs. ‘Yeah, I know. But, for a while, she’s been really distracted––which is weird. I couldn’t place my finger on the problem, until I figured out it was you.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I was once crazy about you too, remember?’

It sets her lungs on fire.

A flower, blossoming in her broken chest. 

 

 

 

 

 

     When she returns, face ridden with dirt and gravel, Katara is silenced with a million things to say; and she remains quiet. 

Toph talks about the progress of the city, how it’s going much more successfully than she previously assumed, but that her main reasons for coming back are solely due to the fact that the so-called _King_ Zuko was starting to annoy her.

‘I get that he thinks he’s all high and mighty by wearing a tiara, but seriously? Orderin’ _me_ around?’

‘A crown.’

‘What?’

‘Not a tiara, a crown.’

Toph snorts. ‘Sure acts like a _princess_ when he wants.’

‘Are you staying here for a while?’

‘I guess. Until Aang notices I’m missing.’

Katara doubts Toph’s absence will go unnoticed for very long, but there’s something flattering about Toph wanting to come back. Obviously building a city demands a lot of cooperation, careful planning and commitment. All things which Toph struggles with.

It wasn’t _just_ Zuko which became overbearing. 

And, clearly, Toph was so fed up with it all, she didn’t waste a second to return––hence the fact the effects of her work are splashed across her face.

Still, having her for a little while longer is all Katara can ask for.

Toph switches on the tap, and rinses her dirt-ridden face; listening out for Katara’s footsteps. She treads lightly past her, and when Toph raises her head, she can smell her perfume. Familiar and so very much like home.

She grabs a towel to dry her face. 

Throws it down, and sighs in her defeat. 

‘Katara? I love you.’

Perhaps it’s her own lack of confidence, the fact she’s never been taken seriously her entire life, or the fact her parents were simply incapable to cherish her well. 

Because Toph gasps when Katara kisses her, and she kisses her with such enthusiasm, Toph is nearly swept off her feet.

There isn’t any hesitation in her voice. Only happy tears and everything she’s been trying to hold back.

‘I love _you_ ,’ she whispers.

Toph touches her face, her cheek; she rests her forehead to hers, and when they kiss again, Katara can feel her smile.

For now, at least, she will stay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading!
> 
> I ended it this way because I wanted you readers to decide whether they stay together. I can't picture Toph settling down with anybody, not even Katara, but whatever decision, I'm certain Katara has a special place in her heart.
> 
> I would like to write more on these two. Perhaps lean more on the comedic side of their friendship, but we'll see how things go.
> 
> Thanks again!


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